


A Potions Accident and a Weasley Jumper

by huffinglepuff



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Good Slytherins, M/M, Potions Accident, Potions Class (Harry Potter), Sharing Clothes, Small Quantities of Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24654085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huffinglepuff/pseuds/huffinglepuff
Summary: Harry had always been quite clumsy, and this time his actions have resulted in a shirtless Draco Malfoy. His only option, unfortunately, was to wear a Weasley jumper; but Harry couldn’t help but think that fate made the right decision.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 18
Kudos: 391





	A Potions Accident and a Weasley Jumper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [etymolodrarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/etymolodrarry/gifts), [icantwritesorry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icantwritesorry/gifts).



> Thanks for sending me the post and editing my dodgy-ass writing @defectivetalos, and @hazlovestommo for writing the post on tumblr that it was based off of ❤️
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

“Harry, we have potions in two minutes, so get your fat arse out of bed.”

“Fuck off, Ron.” Harry groaned, waving a hand dismissively at Ron and rolling over, pulling the thick duvet over his head. He groaned again as said duvet was pulled off him, exposing him to the mercilessly cold air.

“If you’re quick, we might only be five minutes late.”

“Fine,” Harry rolled his eyes, “Can you just shove… _that_ ,” he gestured vaguely to his desk, which was stacked high with textbooks, quills, a Weasley jumper, and various homework assignments - which hopefully included his potions homework, “in my bag please?”

“Sure. Now _go_.” Ron threw some clothes - hopefully his uniform - at Harry, who took them and blindly stumbled to the bathroom, remembering a moment too late that he needed his glasses to see.

He put on his uniform by muscle memory, hoping that none of it was inside out, and splashed some water on his face before emerging. Ron thrust his bag at him, before walking with long strides out of the room. Harry accioed his glasses, shoving them on his face and noting with no small amount of satisfaction that his uniform was, in fact, on correctly. His bag was bulging slightly, but his desk was clear, so Harry jogged after Ron, silently cursing the redhead’s longer legs.

They arrived at the potions classroom just as the class were entering the room, and Ron and Harry joined the line of eight years - they were red-faced and panting, but on time. 

Harry slid into his usual seat beside Draco, who sneered at him. “Late get-up, Potter?”

“Just call me Harry, you prat,” Harry sighed.

“I refuse to call someone by their first name when their tie isn’t even tied.” Draco wrinkled his nose at Harry’s collar, where his tie was slung loosely around his neck.

“Be glad that I remembered to put it on,” Harry muttered, sliding the tie under his collar and tying it.

“Merlin, he can defeat the Dark Lord, but he can't tie a tie.”

“What do you _mean_ I can’t tie it? It’s tied, isn't it?”

“Barely.” Draco rolled his eyes and hummed lightly under his breath as he reached out with long, nimble fingers, tying Harry’s tie, those grey eyes focused solely on his task. Harry held his breath, not daring to move until he was finished.

“Thanks.”

“Come on, Harry, you need to listen to Slughorn. You’re bad enough at potions as it is, and I’m not getting a bad mark because of your brewing.”

“That’s why I get you to do it,” Harry muttered under his breath, turning to the Professor at the front of the room.

“-a simple potion, but very easy to get wrong. Instructions are on the board.” Slughorn flicked his wand at the blackboard, upon which cramped, loopy handwriting suddenly appeared. “Do your worst!”

“What’s that supposed to say?” Harry asked, squinting.

“What’s the point of having glasses if you can’t see anyway?”

“You can _read_ that handwriting?”

“Disappearing potion - this can be added to any object and it will disappear for a certain amount of time, depending upon the quality of the potion, reappear in in the same location afterwards. You will need; three leeches, three hundred grams of moonstone-“

“Yeah, yeah, show-off,” Harry rolled his eyes, “will you go get the ingredients? What cauldron do we need?”

“ _Yes_ I’ll get the ingredients,“like I _always_ do. We need a silver one, preferably untarnished, though it won’t affect it much if it has a bit of tarnish.”

“Yes, _Your Highness._ ”

“I prefer ‘Your Majesty’, but I’m glad to see you finally recognising my true title.”

“Just go get the ingredients.”

“ _I’m_ supposed to order _you_ around,” Draco’s voice faded as Harry approached the stack of silver cauldrons at the front of the room. He knew that, regardless of what he said, Draco would huff and go get the ingredients for him.

Harry smiled softly at the way Draco’s eyes glimmered with delight at the shining cauldron Harry had brought. “Who did you have to fight to get that?”

“Hermione, Seamus, and Terry.”

“A deadly trio.”

“They were also fighting each other, so it wasn’t too bad.”

“Here, chop these up.” Draco slid the leeches across the table, grinding up the glittering moonstone himself. Knowing better than to argue, since Draco would present a well-reasoned argument as to why _he_ got to grind up the pretty ingredients while Harry got leach juice under his fingernails, Harry took the knife and started chopping without complaint.

The rest of the lesson proceeded similarly, with Draco ordering Harry around to produce an Outstanding-level potions and generally give him excellent grades. He also taught Harry a decent amount of theory, meaning there was a chance that he might pass his end of year exams.

Harry bottled the potion - he always ended up with this job, despite his propensity for dropping various objects - and missed the hole to put the stopper in three times as he stared at Draco. His hair was loose and slowly curling due to the humidity, and he kept absent-mindedly brushing it out of his eyes as he packed his stuff. Harry found it ridiculously endearing.

Tearing his eyes away from Draco, he finally lined up the cork and the hole and started to walk towards the classroom’s centre aisle, taking all of one step before tripping over his bag.

The potion flew out of his hand, the cork slipping out as the flask hit Draco square in the chest, the potion splashing on his uniform.

“Fucking hell-“ Harry started, ready to continue muttering a string of obscene words, but the sight before him left him speechless.. His robes, shirt, jumper and tie had disappeared, courtesy of the potion, and he was left standing in only his trousers and shoes, glaring at Harry. Harry was somewhere between his jaw hitting the floor, because Draco was _shirtless_ and Harry had a huge crush on him and seeing that expanse of pale skin just made him want to run his hands and mouth all over Draco, and giggling because between the unkempt hair and downturned mouth, he looked like an angry kitten.

“Well done, _Potter_.”

“Calm _down_ , Draco, they’ll reappear soon - I think Ron put a jumper in my bag this morning.”

“Weasley packed your bag?”

“Late morning, remember?” Harry grabbed his bag as he stood from the floor, digging through it until he found the emerald green jumper. It featured a lime green H with gold thread woven in to make it glimmer as the light caught it. It was a bit glitzy for Harry’s taste, but if he’d have had to choose any jumper for Draco to wear, it would be this one.

“I can’t believe you just _happened_ to have a jumper in your bag.” Draco pulled the jumper over his head, the muscles in his back shifting, his grumbling muffled by the soft material.

“Be glad that I did, otherwise you’d be wandering around shirtless. In _December_.”

“You’ve got a point. Now, give me that,” Draco swiped the extra glass vial from Harry’s hand, “ _I’ll_ do the potion, lest you vanish this jumper as well.”

~

 _Curse Harry, and his gorgeous, blind, emerald eyes_ , Draco thought, hurrying to his dorm room. The quicker he got there, the quicker he could put on one of his own silk shirts.

He threw open his wardrobe, the jumper already half off, to find it empty, because today was the day he’d asked his house elf to deep clean and steam his clothes.

Which meant he was stuck in this jumper for the rest of the day.

_Brilliant._

He looked in the mirror. The jumper was loose on him - while Harry was _at least_ half a foot shorter than him, he was more muscular, meaning it hung loosely off Draco’s slender shoulders and exposed most of his collarbones. _The elves could have left at least one shirt, in cast of a…a soup accident, or something._

Draco rolled his eyes. At least it was Slytherin colours. And he could say the H stood for ‘Hogwarts’, or something. _And_ , he thought, turning to admire himself, _it didn’t hurt that he looked damn good_.

He cast a _tempus_ \- it had been a triple potions lesson, which meant it was now lunch. He walked out of the room, spotting Pansy and Blaise immediately. Pansy looked him up and down and smirked, while Blaise raised an eyebrow.

“Not really your usual… _style_ , is it?”

“Blame Potter.”

“ _‘Potter’_ , now, is it?” Pansy batted her eyelashes at him.

“Shut up Pansy, I’m hungry.”

“For Potter’s dick,” Blaise muttered under his breath. Draco turned to glare at him, but didn’t deny it.

Draco got a few odd stares as he walked into the Hall, but just went to his regular spot. Thanks to Harry’s testament at his trial, he didn’t really have to keep his head down, but still preferred to stay out of the spotlight, unlike his younger self. To his dismay, however, he noticed many stares and odd looks being sent towards him for the course of the meal. He felt the constant prickling sensation on the back of his neck that came with being watched, and rubbed it constantly, frequently looking up for whatever threat his body was telling him to watch for.

Harry walked in around ten minutes after him, and sent a soft smile at Draco, one corner of his mouth turning upwards slightly. Draco felt a slightly blush creep up his neck, and smiled in return, before turning back to his food. That smile didn’t really fade for the course of the meal - and it _certainly_ wasn’t because the jumper was a lot softer than he’d expect it to be, and clearly had temperature-regulation charms woven in, and smelled of cedar, and smoke, and Harry - that odd mixture of smells he got a whiff of every time Harry leaned over him to get something. He just wanted to bury his face in the fabric, to inhale it and wrap his arms around himself. This really wasn’t proper behaviour for a Malfoy, but anyway.

He managed to take another bite of his mashed potatoes when he heard the familiar clink of coins being exchanged. He frowned, but dug his fork back into the food, when he heard another clink, and then another. Soon, the entire room was filled with the muffled clinking of money changing hands.

Then, just as abruptly as it started, it stopped.

Draco frowned and looked up from his meal, scanning the room - what had everyone been betting on? But nothing seemed out of place - the Ravenclaws still had their various books, likely nothing to do with what they were learning in their lessons, the Hufflepuffs were still giggling away or writing letters, the Gryffindors were still loud and raucous and the Slytherins were civilised. A few random sixth and seventh years approached Harry, and Draco purposefully unclenches his fists. Harry could date whomever he wanted. He watched as Harry’s face momentarily morphed into confusion, before he nodded and said “thanks.” Hopefully not an offer for a date on the next Hogsmeade weekend, then.

Draco became increasingly unnerved, however, as the same people walked over to the Slytherin table, despite none of them being Slytherins. They walked straight over to him, and the leader - a short, stocky Ravenclaw - said “we just wanted to congratulate you two on finally getting your heads out of your arses.”

“Err...thank you?” Draco said, not quite sure what was going on. Apparently satisfied with their answer, the group left, a couple with slightly wider smiles than the others.

“What was that all about?” Draco asked, turning to Pansy.

“ _Now_ he remembers me,” Pansy rolled her eyes at Blaise, before turning to Draco. “Maybe you should ask Potter.”

“He’s _literally_ the most oblivious person in school.”

“You’re correct, but I still think you should talk to him.”

Draco sighed. “Can I finish my food?”

“Are you going to eat it, or just play with it?”

“Fair enough.” Draco sighed and shouldered his bag, making his way over to the Gryffindor table.

“Bye then!” Blaise called after him.

~ 

Harry rolled his eyes as the younger kids left.

Well, he probably shouldn’t regard them as kids - some of them were only a couple of months younger than him - but really, the way they’d giggled as they’d walked up, he couldn’t see them as anything else.

They’d congratulated him on _something_ \- he’d nervously thanked them and sighed in relief as they left. The rest of the table was laughing at him, refusing to tell him _why_ , exactly, and leaving him to stew for all of five minutes before Draco had walked directly over from the Slytherin table.

After having spent the best part of the meal determinedly staring at his food rather than at Draco, who looked irresistible in _Harry’s_ jumper - for some reason, he hadn’t taken it off - he practically started drooling at the sight of him walking down the gap between the house tables.

“Pot- Harry, we need to talk.”

Ron sniggered beside him, covering it with a cough as Harry elbowed him. “Let’s go,“ he said, throwing the redhead a dirty look before practically _dragging_ Draco out of the Hall.

Harry frowned at a few whistles that echoed through the Hall as he and Draco walked out.

“What the fuck is going on?” Harry asked, staring straight ahead rather than the gorgeous person next to him.

“Pansy told me to ask you!” Harry heard Draco come to a stop, and he reluctantly turned to face the blond, all coherent thoughts vanishing from his brain. Draco’s mouth was moving, and he was moving his hands dramatically - apparently he did that constantly, not just when putting on performances in the Hall for Harry’s benefit.

Whenever he moved his hands above his head, a sliver of skin appeared just under the jumper as it rose up - despite being too big for him, Harry _was_ half a foot shorter, so it was bound to be shorter. On top of that, the neckline was very wide - Harry usually didn’t think twice about it, but it was _so close_ to slipping off Draco’s left shoulder, exposing all of his left collarbone and most of his right one, and all Harry could think about was running his tongue along it, leaving little bit marks as he went-

“-Harry? Harry! Are you even listening?”

Draco was now staring at him with wide, grey eyes, which shone like quicksilver in the flickering light of the torches. His head was tilted slightly as he ran his tongue along his lower lip, and any chance of Harry answering like a _normal_ person flew out of the window, because _how_ , exactly, was he supposed to concentrate with Draco _staring_ at him like that?

“Draco-” Harry swallowed once, and then twice - why did his mouth have to be so _goddamn_ dry? “I- you’re _so fucking_ _cute_ ,” he blurted out.

_Shit._

Draco didn’t even move, his mouth opening slightly in shock. 

_I actually just said that, didn’t I?_

Before Draco could respond, Harry spun on his heel and fled to his dorms, desperately trying not to hyperventilate.

He flopped down onto his bed and took three, shaky breaths, staring at the red hangings in an attempt to calm down. He looked around at his new permanent residence - there was _no way_ he was leaving after _that_ catastrophe. Hermione could bring him his work, and teach him - she’d probably jump at the chance to learn the work better anyway.

He sighed as his stomach grumbled - Draco couldn’t even let him finish his meal before distracting him with those damn _collarbones_.

~

Draco must have stood in the entrance hall for at least five minutes after Harry went sprinting down the corridor.

There wasn’t a chance in hell that he just called Draco cute, right? That didn’t actually _happen_. He was dreaming - soon, he’d wake up for breakfast, where he would continue to ignore his friends in favor of pining after Harry, like normal.

But students started to file past him as he stood there in shock, and he closed his oddly dry mouth as he was jostled for the fourth time. He knew for a fact that he wouldn’t have something as mundane as being jostled in a dream. 

He pinched himself on the arm for good measure - failing to wake up, Draco decided to come to terms with the fact that Harry had just called him cute.

There was the possibility of it being a prank - Draco wrinkled his nose at the flood of Gryffindors that came out of the Hall, forcibly suppressing his urge to hit himself on the head, because _of course_ \- if _anyone_ knew Harry’s true feelings, it would be his best friends.

Draco hurried after the sea of red, craning his neck to keep his eyes on the familiar, bushy hair, next to a very tall redhead.

Bracing himself for the name calling, he yelled “Granger! Weasley! I need to talk to you for a minute.”

“Fuck off, fer-“ Weasley yelped, likely as Granger stomped on his foot. She then said something to the rest of the Gryffindors, who waved and continued to walk while Granger dragged Weasley to Draco, who was standing in an alcove, out of the way of the rush of students.

“What’s up, Mal-Draco?” Granger had a forced smile on her face, but Draco couldn’t see any hostility behind it.

Not seeing any reason to beat around the bush, Draco took a deep breath, “Does Potter like me…romantically?”

“Why are you asking?” Weasley’s tone was definitely irritated at the start, but it jumped up in pitch as Granger stamped on his foot again. Draco’s respect for the girl was growing with each passing moment.

“He called me cute, and then fucked off at the speed of light.”

“What do you mean, ‘the speed of light’?” 

“Just because I pay attention in muggle studies, Weasley-“

“ _You take muggle studies_?”

“ _Yes_. Granger?”

“Call me Hermione,” Granger waved a hand dismissively at him, “And yes, he’s been smitten with you since sixth year, to my knowledge.”

“Wasn’t he dating Weaselette?”

“He was in denial,” she replied shortly. Weasley scoffed beside her, and received yet another stamp for his efforts. “I’ll talk to him - just be at dinner, I’ll make sure he’s there.”

“Okay, Gr-Hermione.”

She smiled at him, ignoring Weasel’s grumbling as she linked arms with him and headed for the Gryffindor tower.

A huge grin plastered on his face, Draco practically skipped to the Slytherin table, almost knocking Pansy off her seat with his newfound energy.

~

“Fuck off, Ron.” Harry waved his arms and turned over as Ron opened the drapes around his bed.

“No, no, your antics resulted in me having to talk to the ferret. You do _not_ get to tell me to fuck off.”

“But I’m dying of embarrassment.”

“I can’t believe you called the ferret ‘cute’-“

“ _He told you_?” Harry shot up in horror, almost head butting Ron.

“Yeah - he seemed rather panicked, which was quite funny - of course, ‘Mione wouldn’t let me _enjoy_ it…”

“Hermione knows _too_?” Harry pulled his pillow over his face and flopped back onto the bed.

“Yes. Now stop moping, it’s time for dinner.”

“I’m not going.”

“Yes you are.” Ron tried to drag Harry off the bed, but a spark caused Ron to quickly retract his hand. Harry smirked triumphantly, before lying facedown on the bed.

“Time to bring in the big guns,” Ron murmured under his breath, before shouting “HERMIONE!”

“I can't believe you’d do that, you’re supposed to be my best friend,” Harry muttered, hurriedly getting out of bed. _Nobody_ wanted to be on the wrong side of Hermione.

“What’s wrong, Ronald?” Hermione said, reaching the top of the stairs. “Brilliant, Harry’s out of bed. Dinner?”

“Of course, I’m _starving_ ,” Ron said, throwing a wicked smirk over his shoulder at Harry, who stuck out his tongue in return.

~ 

“He called me _cute_ , Pansy!”

“I _know_ , Draco, since this is the three-hundredth time you’ve said it!”

“He thinks I’m cute.” Draco lay on the sofa in the Slytherin common room, the jumper riding up and exposing most of his midriff. _This wonderful, soft, smells-of-Harry, Harry-thinks-I-look-cute jumper._ Draco wondered if Harry would be wanting this particular one back. “What time is it, Blaise?”

“I swear, if you ask that _one more time_ , I will hex you so hard, you won’t be able to kiss Potter for a month.” Blaise glared at him.

“Fine.” Draco crossed his arms, falling silent for all of five seconds. Long enough for their little group to breathe a sigh of relief, until Draco abruptly stopped sulking, because he was going to kiss Harry soon. He waved his wand, the _tempus_ revealing that it was fifteen minutes until dinner.

“Do you think we could go up early?” Draco wondered out loud, falling off the sofa when Pansy, Blaise and Theo all shouted _“no!”_ at him.

“Okay, I was just wondering-“

“Maybe we should let him go up.” Theo said, looking at them from over the top of his book.

“Do you really think he'd be any less insufferable in the Hall?” Blaise replied.

“He’s not getting any less insufferable in here,” Pansy pointed out.

“I’m right here!” Draco whined, climbing back onto the sofa.

“We know!” The group chorused back, Blaise shooting a hex at him so he landed on the floor again.

Grumbling, Draco climbed back on the sofa, practically vibrating. When his wand chimed, he shot up, startling Theo so much he dropped his book.

“You made me lose my place!” Theo groaned, glaring daggers at Draco while quickly flicking through his book.

“You had an alarm all this time.” Pansy said flatly.

“I did. Now let’s go.”

“Why did you keep asking us?” Blaise was also glaring at Draco.

“Because I wanted to know how long I had!”

“For the love of Merlin- Theo, bring your book with you, you can find your place much more easily without little pieces of Draco on it after he explodes.”

“I would not _explode_ \- Draco said indignantly, but Pansy was already dragging him up the stairs. Draco beamed - soon, he’d see Harry again, and everything would be as it should be.

~

“We’re going to be _late_!” Ron was already ahead of Harry and Hermione with his long legs.

“Dinner runs for two hours, Ron, you’re not going to miss it.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“But I’m _hungry_.”

Hermione looked at Harry, who raised an eyebrow in return. They wordlessly made the decision to speed up, practically jogging to keep up.

“Glad to see you two finally realise the importance of my getting dinner.”

They all reached the Hall in record time; it was practically empty, excluding a few eager Hufflepuffs, and some Ravenclaws who were reading, and likely hadn’t moved since lunch.

“See? The food isn’t even out yet,” Harry said, moving towards their usual seats anyway.

“Which means that we’ll get it as freshly as possible. Maximum freshness.”

“That sounds like toothpaste.”

“Shut up.” Food suddenly appeared in front of them - chicken roast tonight. Hermione went for the vegetarian option, while Harry and Ron piled their plates high with meat and potatoes, and (at the look on Hermione’s face) small piles of peas and carrots.

“Honestly, if I wasn’t here, you two would have so many nutrient deficiencies.”

“There are such things as nutrient potions, Hermione.”

“They aren’t as healthy as vegetables, and you know it. Oh look, there are the Slytherins,” Hermione added with clearly false enthusiasm.

“You don’t have to go out of your way to embarrass me further, Hermione,” Harry grumbled, deliberately not looking at the entrance.

“One of them’s coming over here,” Hermione said, with a shit-eating grin.

“What have you done?” Harry groaned, turning to see Draco coming up the aisle, looking as beautiful as ever, with a grin to match Hermione’s.

He came to a stop in front of Harry, who stood. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that earlier, it just slipped-“

Draco raised a finger to Harry’s lips, who went cross-eyed trying to follow it.

“You have a bit of gravy here,” Draco said, gently wiping the corner of Harry’s mouth with his thumb while cupping Harry’s jaw with the rest of his hand.

“What-“ Harry started, as his face was tilted upwards to meet silver eyes.

The corner of Draco’s mouth pulled upwards, his eyes smouldering as he leant down. The kiss was chaste, but it sent sparks fizzling down to Harry’s fingertips.

Draco didn’t quite pull away, allowing Harry to make the next move. Harry didn’t hesitate, surging upwards, his arms wrapping around Draco and his fingers digging into the soft material of the jumper that started it all, their mouths clashing together with fiery passion, and Harry knew all in the moment that this was what was meant to be.

Harry pulled away reluctantly, staring into those grey eyes and ignoring the whoops and cheers coming from many of his classmates.

He made a mental note to get Mrs Weasley something extra special for Christmas this year.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated <3
> 
> Follow me on tumblr or instagram (@huffinglepuff) for shorter prompt-based posts, text posts, to send in a prompt or just DM me! :)


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